


The Rite of Spring

by kansaskissedlips



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 06:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18565636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kansaskissedlips/pseuds/kansaskissedlips
Summary: Sam comes to terms with the fact that he needs to die in order to complete the cycle.Set during S5E22 ('Swan Song').





	The Rite of Spring

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published six years ago (written for Sam Appreciation Week).

_What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal. -_ Albert Pike

* * *

It's the night before his death and honestly, it's not really different than any other night. The sky is grey through the motel room window, overcast with the first rain of spring. He can't help but wonder at the irony that he'll die in the spring - isn't spring supposed to be about rebirth, making old things new again, coming full circle after a long winter of cohabitation with death?

He shrugs it off. He supposes, really, he  _will_  be making things new again - or at least saving the old ones so they'll have a chance to be new. No matter which way he swings it, though, he can never see himself as a hero. He's simply trying to be a decent human being, waging a quiet war with the need for redemption - not recognition. 

He should be afraid of dying - anyone should be afraid of dying - but it's happened to him twice before. Both times were cold-blooded murder; one ending with a knife in his back, the other with a bullet in his heart. This time is different, though - it's his  _choice_ to die. He wouldn't say he's committing suicide, because it's not like that. He's not suicidal - though, if he's being honest with himself, he  _has_ been - after his brother's death, mostly.

But his brother's alive now, and he intends to keep it that way. Yeah, it could be argued that he's doing this for the greater good, for the sake of humanity - but mostly - God,  _mostly_ \- he's doing it for his brother. So he can stay alive, live the long happy life that he's never had the chance to have.

He knows, deep down, that his brother can't truly be happy without him, though. And maybe that sounds egotistical, but when one has the kind of relationship that they do with each other...some things just slide on by. He can only hope that he'll understand that he's doing this for him; that he's doing this because he loves him. And that, even in the depths of his despair, he'll find happiness. 

It's the little things, like hope, that Sam Winchester holds onto.

* * *

Later that night, he stands inside the cramped little bathroom. He's completely naked as he looks over himself in the mirror, almost as if he's studying himself. Soon, this body will be inhabited by someone else, and he'll probably never see it like this again - maybe won't even remember what it looks like. So he makes several observations, files them away in his head.

He has a nice body - good muscle tone, strength all over. But it's not really his physique that is impressive to him - it's the array of scars and bruises covering said physique.

The scar on the small of his back is probably the most noticeable. That's from his encounter with the knife. The demons who brought him back, gave him life again, thought it would be fun to leave the scar there as a physical reminder of how he fucked up - of how that one second of not paying attention landed him dead and his brother in Hell. It's long and pinkish, scar tissue that bunches in the middle. It's ugly, but it's permanent. Such are many things in life.

There are other scars on his body, of course. Most of them are long and white, having been slashed at with claws or a knife or some other kind of deadly weapon. He has a few on his upper arms, some beneath his rib cage, a couple on his legs. He has two - maybe three? - bullet marks, too. He's lost count, which is understandable when one does what he does.

Besides his scars, though, there's also little moles - or, well,  _birthmarks_ \- all over his body. His brother was blessed with freckles, but he got stuck with moles. Some of them aren't bad. He doesn't really mind the one beside his nose - he's grown accustomed to it. And then there are the little ones all along his neck, over his collar bones. He has them hovering over his erogenous zones, too - which, of course, only a select few people know about.

He forces himself to smile, observing it in the mirror. People often tell him he has a nice smile, and one time his brother told him that it reminded him of their mother's. He likes that - he likes that these little physical things that belonged to his parents live on in he and his brother.

"Sam? Movie's going to start soon."

Dean's voice cuts through his his thoughts, brings him back to reality, to Earth as it so often has. 

"Coming."

* * *

"Are you scared?" Dean asks him later, brushing his hair away from his face, running his fingers soothingly through it. There's some stupid chick-flick on the television, but neither of them seem to care.

He turns slightly, cranes his neck upwards so he can see his brother's eyes. "I think I've come to terms with it, to be honest. I've spent a lot of time thinking and...you know, I'm ready." He smiles, but he knows it probably looks sad.

"I'm fucking terrified," Dean whispers, thumb moving over his lip now. "I don't want to lose you, Sammy. I already lost you once. I already -"

"Dean, I know." He sits up, takes Dean's face between his hands. "But you have to let me go. You have to let me do this. And you  _have_ to promise that you'll at least  _try_ to be happy, to live your 'apple pie' life. I want that for you, Dean. I want it for you so bad that it fucking hurts, and so help me - if I can give you a chance to have that, I will."

Dean looks startled at the passion. 

"I know you find it hard to believe, Dean, but I love you as much as you love me. And - like you - I would do  _anything_ \- including letting the Devil borrow my body - to keep you safe, to make sure you  _live_." He hangs his head. "Someone from our family needs a chance to  _live_ , Dean, and that someone needs to be  _you_."

Dean stares at him, then reaches out his own hand, cupping his face, drawing him close to him as he presses a careful kiss to his lips. "I'm gonna try real hard, Sammy. For you."

And don't they always - try for each other? It's been a vicious cycle over the course of their lives, but here's their chance to end it. And he'll be damned if he doesn't take that chance, doesn't give Dean what he deserves the most. 

"I love you, you know," he whispers, and he can hear the rain pelting against the rickety glass. "I love you, Dean. It's always been you and me against the world, you know - and tomorrow, that's exactly what it's going to be: you and me against the world."

"I know, Sam," Dean says back, and he's suddenly turning to press Sam into the cool sheets. "I know you do. Me, too. God, I love you."

The motel room is quiet afterwards, save for the occasional gasps and pleasured cries. This is them - this is their love, immortalized with the languid symphonies of their love-making. It's the one thing that can't be taken from them, even in death.

* * *

Sam Winchester dies in the middle of spring, arms held open like Jesus on the Cross, as he falls face-forward into an unknown abyss, meeting his brother's eyes one last time, a soft smile on his face. 

In his redemptive act, he becomes the hero - unsung, of course, for billions of people know not what he has done. Nor would he  _want_ them to know. But Dean does. Dean knows what his little brother did for him - for the whole, ungrateful world.

But Dean also knows that Sam would not want his death to be in vain; that he would not want his death to mean  _decay_. He would want it to mean  _renewal, life, light_. 

So that's why Dean Winchester takes his brother's sacrifice to heart and carries out his wish for this renewal; that's why he shows up at the doorstep of someone he barely even knows anymore.

And from the light-post, as Sam watches his dying wish carried out, he can't help but wonder at the irony of watching the one person whom he truly loves, fall into the arms of another person. 

But this is spring, after all: it's about rebirth, making old things new again, coming full circle after a long winter of cohabitation with death.


End file.
